


and there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody

by otpsinfiction



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, And honestly, Angst, But also, F/M, Immortality, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampire Jughead, also kinda sad? maybe?, alternate universe - witch, archie's a werewolf, betty's a faerie, but who knows, havent decided yet - Freeform, i dont think there will be any smut, in this universe witches are immortal too, itll probably only be like 3 chapters max, maybe 4, something to write when im having trouble writing the other ones im working on, they arent really a big part of this at all, theyre both centuries old, this au is just for fun, witch veronica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-23 01:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otpsinfiction/pseuds/otpsinfiction
Summary: Every time I close my eyesIt's like a dark paradiseNo one compares to youI'm scared that youwon't be waiting on the other side





	and there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody

“I met someone.”

His words hang in the air like the suspended moment before a glass shatters to the ground. Veronica shifts on her feet, not quite ready to face him. She felt his presence before he uttered a single word. She wondered if he’d say anything at all or if he’d watch her from a distance like he was so inclined to do. She didn’t know what to expect but she wasn’t expecting that.

When she does finally meet his gaze, her heart skips a beat. He stood in her archway, just as tall, pale and unchanged as he’d been all those centuries ago when they met. The purplish bags under his eyes were more prominent than she remembered but his hair was still dark and unruly, and his eyes were still a haunting shade of blue. Despite how many lifetimes she’s lived through there was still something jarring about reuniting with another immortal being after so many years apart. And something heartbreaking about this one in particular.

He looks unsure of himself, unsure if he should be there or maybe unsure if he should be telling her this at all and Veronica can’t help but wonder the same. Looking at him now she couldn’t remember the last time they saw each other, let alone spoke. And as she studied him for a moment the intention of his visit becomes abundantly clear.

He needed something.

_They always do._

Veronica clears her throat as her eyes drop from his icy blue stare to the ground beneath them. She swallows harshly before forcing herself to speak. “A human I presume?”

His lips part momentarily, giving her a glimpse of his porcelain fangs, before he presses them shut into a thin line. He shakes his head, “No. Not a human.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow at him expectantly. If he was going to show up here after all this time just to ask for something, she wasn’t going to make it painless for him. She knew he hated asking for favors probably more than she hated being used for them, but she wasn’t willing to meet him half way. Not this time. Not after everything they’ve been through. She needed to hear him say the words. Something the broody Adonis was never good at.

When she doesn’t offer up a reply he sighs and with reluctance he saunters further into her chambers looking right at home among the black velvet and burgundy silk. “Her name is Betty. She’s – she’s of the Fae.”

Veronica blinks rapidly as his words settle on her skin. Did she hear that correctly? A bitter smirk colors her lips as she makes her way around her altar. Her long black gown billowing behind her as she closes the gap between them, leaving a few feet for good measure. “Of the Fae.” She repeats, this time making sure to look him in the eye. He was never a very good liar and on the off chance that this was some sadistic joke she wasn’t about to allow him to have the upper hand. “You can’t be serious, Jughead.”

And with that the memory of their last encounter comes blazing from the shadows like a slap across the face. He said he was done with the darkness. Done with the shadows and the blood and now up close and personal she can see he meant it literally. It must’ve been weeks since he last fed. Maybe even months.

She swallows the worry down, shaking the thoughts from her head. He wasn’t her responsibility anymore.

As if he can read her mind his gaze drops to his feet, immediately going into defense mode. “The Fae are good people. They’re not consumed by blood or lust or power… they’re happy and perfectly content living in the light. I mean they don’t even lie—”

“They _can’t_ lie.” Veronica corrects him. “There’s a distinction there.”

“In your opinion.” He mumbles under his breath, turning away from her.

She watches him in disbelief as he takes a vile of blood off her shelf and rolls it between his fingers. “It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact. The Fae are _incapable_ of lying. Don’t say it as if they’re these morally high beings who _choose_ not to lie.” She grabs the bottle from his hand and puts it back into place. “And the fact that they can’t lie only makes them that much more cunning and manipulative. They shouldn’t be trusted.”

“Says the daughter of the infamously corrupt high warlock.”

Veronica clenches her jaw at the mention of her father. She left that life a long time ago. He knew that. He was there when it happened. She bites her cheek to stop herself from saying something she might regret.

“Besides, Betty isn’t like that.” He swallows hard as he meets her eyes. “She’s good and pure and –”

“And you’re foolish enough to fall for that façade.”

Jughead smirks, licking his bottom lip before he speaks. “Envy isn’t a good color on you Veronica.”

“Envy would imply that she has something I want, and I can assure you, she doesn’t.”

His smirk falters ever so slightly, his eyes dragging over her body. The tension between them lingers in the air and despite her better judgment Veronica can feel herself gravitating towards him like a magnet. The crackling in the air that's always happened whenever the two them got within a foot of each other is too hard to ignore. Or rather, too hard to resist. She knew deep in her soul that no matter the distance, no matter how much timed passed between them, Jughead Jones could be at the ends of the earth and she’d still feel a pull towards him.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as her dark amber eyes gaze into his. For a moment there’s a flicker of something, a spark, perhaps, of the life they used to share together but it’s gone in an instant. He might physically look the same but there was something different there. A different essence to him. He wasn’t the same broody, down-on-his-luck vampire she helped all those years ago. He wasn’t the same boy she loved.

His lifeless heart now belonged to someone new and she no longer recognized him.

Jughead looks as if he’s going to reach out and touch her but she backs away before he has the chance. She’d never forgive herself if she gave into him again. With every ounce of strength she has she meets his eye once more. Determined to get this over with as quickly as possible she swallows her pride and speaks, “Just tell me what you want so you can be on your way.”

It’s clear by the look on his face that her rejection of his presence stings. It takes him a second to register her request and he has a hard time masking his disappointment. Veronica convinces herself it’s out of habit and not love. Definitely not love.

“I – what makes you think I want something?”

Veronica rolls her eyes at him as she walks back around her altar. She sits on her black and gold baroque chair, the slit in her gown showcasing her bare tan legs as she crosses them. She watches him struggle to tear his eyes away from her exposed skin. Despite the breaking of her heart she was fully aware that she was in control of the situation. He needed something only she could give him and if this was the last time she ever saw him, she was going to have some fun with it.

“Don’t insult me, Jones.”

His stare remains vexed as she uncrosses her legs and digs her pointed burgundy nails into the velvet arms of the throne. “You and I both know you’re only here because you need something from me, or did you just come to throw your new relationship in my face?”

“Veronica, you know I would never—”

She raises her hand to silence him and he, surprisingly, abides without hesitation. “Save yourself the dignity and just tell me what it is you need.”

Jughead straightens his posture, “Betty wants me to meet her family.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow at him, a petty smirk tugging at her lips. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the ridiculous notion. “So you came here for fashion advice?”

Jughead grins in spite of himself, looking away to hide his face. He was always subconscious of his smile and Veronica never understood why. She knew that when he wasn’t trying to repress them his fangs would come to the forefront and of all the looks he adorned in the centuries that she’s known him, his fang induced smile was among her favorites.

“No…” He trails off, the humor of the situation leaving just as quickly as it came. “She wants me to meet her family for lunch… in the afternoon… when the sun is out…”

Confusion colors her face as she studies him. She didn’t see the problem. Surely he could just ask her to have her family reschedule for a later time when the sun wasn’t out. If they insisted on following these mundane traditions, dinner with the family seemed like a more appropriate avenue. Veronica blinks several times. “Does she not know what you are?”

“She’s well aware.” He swallows harshly, fidgeting with his hands.

Oh.

_Oh._

A familiar sinking feeling gnaws at the pit of her stomach.

“I—I think it’s a test to prove myself to her… prove that I’m different...”

“How romantic.” She says dryly.

Jughead sighs. It was clear they weren’t getting anywhere. “Veronica, you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important to me.”

“Funny I didn’t hear you ask me anything. You’ve just been regaling me with irrelevant information.”

He exhales deeply, closing the space between them in two strides. “Will you please help me?”

A brief beat of silence passes.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Jughead leans back, clearly confused by her lack of hesitation. “No conditions? No groveling needed? No forcing me to beg on hands and knees?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, Jones, I have no issue helping the people I care for but if you’d like to get on your knees for me then by all means.”

A wicked smirk plays on his lips. “You know, I almost forgot how much of a temptress you can be, Princess.”

Veronica’s face falls at the familiar nickname. It used to elicit a surge of desire and endearment but now all she felt was pain. She sits up, crossing her legs again but this time making sure the fabric of her dress covers her skin. She’s had her fun. The only thing she wants now is for him to leave. “When is this luncheon?”

Jughead tears his gaze away unable to pinpoint the reason behind the sudden shift in mood. He clears his throat. “Tomorrow at 1.”

Veronica nods. “Come by in the morning before the sun rises. I’ll have a daylight ring ready for you.”

She stands from her chair and glides through the archway to the front door, holding it open for him. Jughead stalls. “Don’t you need my blood or something of mine for it to work properly.”

She almost smiles at his inquiry. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or impressed that he remembered such a specific detail. She must have made a thousand of them for other desperate vampires when they were together. She never thought he paid any attention to it. When she offered to make him one he scoffed at the notion. He said the others were just kidding themselves. He said the darkness was where they belonged. She inwardly grimaces at the memory, ignoring the burning in her throat.

“I already have your blood.” She reminds him, her heart shattering once more as she reaches for the amulet hanging from her neck. She pulls it out of her dress, holding it out for him to see. A small blood-filled vile with a silver serpent pendant wrapped around it. He gave it to her the night she left her father’s coven behind. It was meant as a promise of forever. Or so she thought.

She watches a plethora of expressions cross his face.

Guilt. Confusion. Sympathy. Regret.

She couldn’t decide which one she hated more.

“Veronica, I—”

She pulls the door open wider, “I’ll see you before sunrise.”

* * *

Jughead is infuriatingly punctual, arriving just before dawn. He doesn’t bother knocking and Veronica doesn’t bother scolding him on his lack of manners or boundaries. It seemed futile to do so at this point. He was there for one thing and one thing only. They both knew he wouldn’t be staying long.

When he enters her chamber she’s sat on her throne behind her altar, sporting a black, flowy, silk robe instead of the extravagant gown she wore the night before. Her long raven hair that usually falls freely is pulled back in an intricate braid that hangs far past her shoulder, a few loose tendrils framing her face. She thought of what her father might say if he saw her handling business like this. She could practically hear his disappointed berating voice in her ear.

But this wasn’t business. Not really.

Never one to steer away from theatrics, the box containing his daylight ring is sat directly in front of her precisely in the center of her altar. A few dozen candle sticks surround it, and her, all blazing fervently. A cauldron of blood sits to its left while a small stack of ambiguous bones lay to its right.

Their eyes lock on each other as he saunters his way over to her. She watches as his gaze ticks down to the box, his dark brows knitting together at her set up. “Why does this feel like some ancient sacrificial ritual?”

Veronica’s lips curve up into the tiniest smirk. “Maybe it is.”

Jughead studies her for a moment. Despite knowing that her family and her magic comes from a longline of ancient witches there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t trust Veronica Lodge. Still, he was essentially asking his ex-lover to help his relationship with his new lover, so his cautiousness wasn’t too farfetched. He narrows his eyes at the striking brunette as she attempts to bite down her amusement.

Upon realizing she’s just messing with him he rolls his eyes and snatches the small box off the altar. “You think you’re funny.”

Her tiny smirk turns into a charming, albeit smug, smile as she stands to her feet. “Oh come on, I’ve been at this for centuries. I have to find entertainment somehow.”

“At the expense of others. How very _Lodge_ of you.” He begins to make his way to the door, fully aware that he’s overreacting. He knows it’ll be easier to walk away from her if he starts a fight or convinces himself to be angry. It’s immature behavior for a creature that’s roamed the earth for hundreds of years, but he can’t stop himself.

Before he can step out of the door it slams in his face and the box that was in his hand seconds ago is nowhere to be found. He whips around to face her, seeing the daylight box in her grip. He may have superhuman speed but she was still the most powerful witch of her time. He didn’t stand a chance against her. Not that he ever would. He huffs, exasperated. “Seriously?”

“Sorry I’m just struggling to find an ounce of gratitude in that statement.”

Jughead stifles a remark as the gravity of her words hits him. The scowl he’s usually sporting softens into something akin to shame. His lips part several times in an attempt to redeem himself but nothing comes out. He finally settles on the one cohesive thought he can manage. “I’m sorry.”

Veronica holds his stare for all of 10 seconds before tossing the box back in his direction. He catches it with ease but once its in his possession again it feels heavy and foreign. Like it didn’t belong to him.

“Thank you… for everything.” He’s able to muster as his heart begins to sink. She doesn’t respond with words but the slow creaking sound of the door opening behind him tells him it’s time to go.

He makes it to the first step and expects to hear the door close behind him but instead he hears the soft pitter patter of her bare feet. He freezes in anticipation. “Do you love her?”

Jughead squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to answer her. He turns slowly, meeting her soulful expectant eyes in the process. When he opens his mouth to respond, her breath hitches and she shakes her head adamantly. “Perhaps it’s better for everyone involved if I don’t know the answer to that.”

“Veronica –”

“Here.” In the blink of an eye her hand is outstretched toward him and dangling from it is the serpent pendent he gave her all those years ago. Empty of his blood. “It seems only fitting you give it to Betty given the circumstances.”

“_Veronica_.”

“Good luck, Jones.” She smiles softly at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her voice remains low and unsure. “I hope you’re finally happy.”

And then, before he can even utter a single word in return, she’s gone.


End file.
